


The Return

by fruitstripegum



Series: For One Night and the Rest of Them [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Derek and Stiles get caught fuckin', Hand Jobs, M/M, Road Head, Toys, but it's never really over, the honeymoon is over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitstripegum/pseuds/fruitstripegum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek are one their way back from their honeymoon when they make an unscheduled stop that could get them in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tiger101](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tiger101).



One week. They’d been away from Beacon Hills for one week, but it felt at once much more and much less time. After Derek’s bungled proposal ( _‘don’t call it that, Derek, it was perfect – I cried!’ ‘You were already crying, Stiles.’ ‘That’s beside the point.’_ ) and their quick elopement the following day, the newlyweds had absconded to Jamaica for a week-long honeymoon, a wedding gift from Derek’s reclusive Uncle Peter. Stiles had only met him a handful of times, but they were more than enough. Tomorrow marked their return to reality: back to work, back to sharing each other with their friends and family.

 

Just before the final leg of their flight from LAX to Beacon County Regional Airport, Stiles had lured Derek into a large handicapped stall in one of the public restrooms ( _‘Stiles, men’s restrooms are disgusting.’ ‘Get in the stall, Derek, I swear to god it’ll be worth it.’ ‘If I pick of a venereal disease from a hand rail or toilet seat, I’m going to murder you.’ ‘I love you, too, husband.’_ ) and surprised him by pulling a velvety pull-string bag out of his carry-on. Derek wasn’t sure how Stiles had managed to hide the plug from him all week – he honestly didn’t think Stiles’ willpower was that strong – but if his husband was trying to surprise him, well, he could definitely say he was surprised.

 

“I think it would be super hot if you wore it until we get to the loft,” Stiles whispers before licking the shell of Derek’s ear.

 

“Stiles, you can’t just going around wearing a butt plug in a fucking airport – there’s scanners and shit! The TSA is going to detain me!”

 

“We don’t have to go through any additional security before we get to our gate,” Stiles informs him. “It’ll be perfect and you’ll be stretched and ready for me the moment we get home.”

 

Derek groans, half hard just thinking about it. It wasn’t like he really needed convincing anyway, he and Stiles had a very active and imaginative sex life. Stiles was particularly inventive and hadn’t presented Derek with a single experience he didn’t like. He nods his head in affirmation, leaning in to Stiles to lick his way inside his mouth. Stiles returns the kiss, licking and sucking on Derek’s bottom lip for a moment before he pulled back.

 

“I want to hear you say it,” Stiles’ voice was low and gravelly with arousal.

 

“God, put that plug in my ass _now_ , Stiles,” Derek demanded.

 

Stiles smiles against his husband’s lips before he turns him around, unbuttoning Derek’s pants and pulling them down, along with his boxer briefs, to his knees. He double checks the stall door is locked before he gets to work, pulling out a foil packet of lube and ripping off a corner to slick some onto his fingers, inserting two automatically, knowing Derek could take it. He scissors his fingers as he pushes in and pulls out, stretching him open deftly. Derek is half hard and panting already.

 

“Plug,” Stiles demands, holding his hand out for Derek to give him the toy. Derek complies quickly. Stiles slicks up the toy with more lubricant before placing it at Derek’s fluttering entrance. “You’re so willing,” he praises.

 

“Just put it in me,” Derek growls, his voice low both with arousal and the need to be quiet as men come in to do their business in the other stalls.

 

Derek is fully erect now, and panting. Stiles files away the thought that the risk of getting caught might be a massive turn on for Derek. Slowly, too slowly as far as Derek was concerned, Stiles pushes the plug against his hole. Derek’s body alights with sensations as the plug pushes against his rim, before his body gives way and accepts it. The plug is bulbous with a flared base that Stiles grabs onto as he works it into him, twisting and rotating it until it's seated firmly within him.

 

Using the residual lube on his fingers, Stiles moves his hand around to Derek’s leaking cock and pumps him to completion just as a woman’s voice sounds over the intercom, announcing that their flight's about to begin boarding. Stiles wipes his hand with toilet paper as Derek tucks himself back into his pants. They retrieve their bags from the floor of the stall and Derek walks out with them both – he would meet Stiles at the gate after he’d washed his hands.

 

The flight to Beacon County Regional Airport was a short one. They took a small regional jet that sat three to a row – two seats together, then an aisle and another seat – and they had the plane practically to themselves. By the time they landed, Derek feeling comfortably full, and were shuttled to Derek’s Camaro, he was hard again, straining against the zipper of his jeans.

 

They've just turned onto the road when Stiles pulls something small and black from his pocket. Derek has just enough time to register it out of the corner of his eye before he feels a vibrating pulse against his prostate that causes him to swerve slightly in surprise.

 

“You’re lucky I didn’t just crash this car!” he yells. “Warn me next time!”

 

Stiles waits another minute before he reaches his left hand over to cup Derek’s erection and pulses the plug again. Derek groans at the dual sensations, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second before he looks over to Stiles, who has a mischievous glint in his eye. Stiles pulls at his seatbelt, adding more space for him to move before he leans over the gearbox and works open Derek’s fly again. He pulls out Derek’s hard member, circling his fingers tightly around the base as he licks up the shaft.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Stiles,” Derek groans. Stiles hears his head his the headrest with a thump.

 

“Mmmm,” Stiles moans, lips suckling at Derek’s head before he pulls back slightly. “We can’t do this in my car,” he laments. "Stupid stick shift." His breath cascades over Derek’s alert cock. Derek places a hand on the back of Stiles’ head lightly as he drives.

 

Stiles doesn’t need to be given any further direction. He sinks his mouth down on Derek’s cock, licking his shaft, rolling his tongue flat on the down stroke before hollowing his cheeks as he bobs back up his length. Stiles holds the plug’s remote in his free hand and has set it to an undulating pulse. Derek knows he isn’t going to last long with the way the plug and his husband’s mouth were affecting him. He pulls off to the side of the road right outside the Beacon County Line marker; Stiles pushes the gearshift to park underneath his torso without breaking rhythm.

 

Derek’s hand is firmer on Stile’s head now, fingers carded through the hair at the base of his head and tugging lightly the way he knows drives Stiles crazy. He's thrusting shallowly into Stiles’ mouth now – Stiles has relaxed his jaw completely and was letting Derek fuck his mouth, spit and precome dripping from his lips as Derek fucks into him.

 

“Damn it, Stiles, I’m going to come,” Derek pants. Stiles moans around Derek’s girth at that and it's the final straw - Derek is coming in thick spurts down Stiles’ throat while Stiles swallows, milking him dry.

 

“Fuck,” Stiles groans after he pulled off, his voice rough from Derek’s dick. “I need to be balls deep in you _right now_.”

 

Derek nods, words failing him. He tucks his spent dick back into his pants without buttoning them and opens the car door, stepping out into the pitch black night. He walks around to the passenger side door quickly. Stiles already has it open and is fisting his own cock, slicking it up with another packet of lube. He's sitting sideways on the car seat, feet on the ground outside the open door. Derek steps in between the V of his legs and bends down to place a searing kiss on his lips. He can taste his come on Stiles’ mouth.

 

“Give me the remote,” Derek demands. Stiles handed it over without question. It took Derek only a moment to find the ‘off’ button.

 

He pulls his pants down to his ankles before he turns around and bends over, presenting his plugged ass to Stiles, who groans at the sight and slaps his ass firmly. Stiles wraps two fingers around the flared base and pulls the toy out a little before pushing it back it, fucking Derek with it.

 

“I thought… you said… you needed…” Derek pants into the night.

 

Stiles pulls the plug out completely, tossing it indiscriminately into the back seat of the Camaro before he grabs Derek’s hips, guiding him to sit himself on Stiles’ throbbing cock.

 

“Fucking ride me,” Stiles demands.

 

Derek steadies himself with one hand on the door handle as he moved onto Stiles, groaning with the sensation of being filled again. He bounces up and down on Stiles’ cock and Stiles grunts and moans after each thrust down. After a few minutes, Derek’s cock is hard and bouncing with him. Derek takes a second to think that it shouldn’t be possible for him to be hard again already - he won't be able to come, but the sensation of Stiles filling him up creates a Pavlovian response. 

 

“God, Der, you feel so good,” Stiles murmurs, “so fucking _tight_ and hot.”

 

Derek can feel Stiles’ fingers bruising at his hips as he helps Derek slide up and down. They’re lost in the moment, their minds filled only with each other. Stiles' breaths are coming faster and shallower now. Derek knows he's about to come and circles his hips as he rides his husband with abandon, arms bracing on the car. 

 

“Well, this isn’t what I expected when I drew the short straw for patrol tonight,” a familiar voice drawls.

 

Derek’s eyes pop open in surprise as his head snaps to the voice. Stiles’s line of sight is broken by his seat back but he growls anyway, recognizing Jordan Parrish’s voice as well.  “Fuck!” he breathes, coming hard at the combined sensations of pleasure and shock.

 

“Can you like turn around or something?” Derek asked his ex as he moves to pull up his pants and disconnect from Stiles.

 

“Oh come on Der, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in a compromising situation before.” The Deputy takes another step closer to the couple, leaning against the back fender of the Camaro as he crosses his arms over his chest superiorly.

 

“But you haven’t been permitted to do that for years,” Stiles growls from the interior of the car where he's zipping up.

 

“You’re being pretty cheeky for someone who was caught breaking the law, Stilinski,” Jordan barks. “Public lewdness is a crime I could arrest you for.”

 

“ _Public_?” Derek squawks, zipping up his jeans regardless of the fact that Stiles’ come is beginning to drip out of him. “Jordan, we’re on a _deserted road_ in the middle of the night.”

 

“And yet, laws are laws,” Jordan replies loftily.

 

“Come on, Parrish,” Stiles grits through his teeth. “This is ridiculous.”

 

“What’s ridiculous is finding two delinquents fucking in their car like they’re in high school. What would this mean for daddy during an election year?” he wonders, looking pointedly at Stiles, whose eyes blaze in anger.

 

“Jordan,” Derek draws both other men’s attention to him with his soft voice. “You don’t have to do this.”

 

“You’re right, Der, I don’t,” Jordan tells him. “But maybe I want to.”

 

“It’s not worth the paperwork you’re going to have to do if you haul us in,” Derek replies, his voice steady. “I know how much you hate doing paperwork.”

 

Jordan takes a moment to think. Both Stiles and Derek have redressed and are standing in the open passenger door. Derek practically shields Stiles from the cop.

 

“I guess I don’t _have_ to bring you in,” he admits after a moment. “We’d have to wait for a tow truck and back up and then – you’re right, Derek – I would have a stack of paperwork to fill out after the fact.”

 

Derek’s shoulders slump in relief. Stiles is still wary, his eyes squint, trying to figure out Parrish’s angle.

 

“I could be convinced to let you go,” Jordan begins, “Could be an ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’ sort of thing.”

 

Stiles growls – actually fucking growls – at Jordan. “Out of the question.”

 

“I don’t under—“ Derek begins before comprehension hits him. “Whatever you’re thinking is a ‘no.’”

 

“Come on, Der,” Jordan purrs, uncrossing his hands and angling them down to his crotch. “It could be just like old times.”

 

Derek has to hold Stiles back from going after the deputy in his rage.

 

“If you attack him, then he _will_ have a reason to take you to jail,” he whispers frantically into Stiles ear. “Right now he’s just bluffing.”

 

“I’m gonna wipe that fucking smirk off his face,” Stiles snarls. “See how cocky he is with a few teeth missing.”

 

Derek talks him off the ledge while Jordan watches, smirking. Derek rubs his face in exasperation, trying to find a way out of this when inspiration strikes.

 

“Jordan, you remember my sister Laura?” Derek asks, his tone nonchalant.

 

“You think you can talk _her_ into sucking me off?” Jordan snarks.

 

“Definitely not,” Derek informs him, “but I can talk her into representing me and my husband in a case against the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department for harassment.”

 

“I’m just doing my job here,” Jordan’s grin can be predatory on a good day, but tonight, with the heightened shadows contouring his face from his cruiser’s headlights, he looks fucking evil.

 

“Actually, Deputy, your job ends about fifteen yards that way.” Derek motions to the ‘Welcome to Beacon County’ sign he’d parked in front of.

 

“You don’t even know where the county line really ends,” Jordan drops his smile and his smart tone.

 

“That would be correct, but I’m betting that neither do you. My sister, who is also my lawyer, absolutely _loves_ finding out that kind of information. And she absolutely _hates_ you. Do you really want to arrest us when you could very well be outside of your jurisdiction? We have a well-documented history of your prejudice against me and Stiles. How long do you think it would take to build a case for harassment and abuse of privilege?”

 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jordan bites out.

 

“I wouldn’t even think about it again if you get back in your cruiser like nothing happened.”

 

Jordan tucks his thumbs into his belt, a nervous habit. Derek remembers that he postures when he's uncomfortable. He contemplates for a moment before he turns to walk back to his cruiser. He opens the door and is about to step in when he stops and looks back at the couple.

 

“You know, Derek, this new attitude you have is extremely unattractive.” He bites out before getting into the cruiser and driving off.

 

Forty minutes later, after they’ve made it back into the loft, showered off the airport feeling, and climbed into bed, Stiles cuddles up to Derek and kisses him lightly across his shoulder blades.

 

“What’s that for,” Derek asks sleepily.

 

“For just being you,” Stiles replies simply.

 

They fall asleep tangled together shortly after that, secure in the knowledge that they will be together for the rest of their nights.


End file.
